12 DAYS OF MISTRESS REPRISE.....

On the 12th Day of christmas mistress gave to me....

12 pins for cumming

11 licks a striping

10 more for peeping

9 ways of dancing

8 days of milking

7 swats a swinging

6 weeks a slaving

5 five on my thing!!!!!!

4 colored clips

3 whip flicks

2 paddle strokes

and a switching between my kneeeeeez......

thank ya...thankya ver much....

goodboy

PUNNISHED, AND PUT TO BED (PART 2)

I lay sobbing on my bed. Striped red, and burning from the candy strap. (A length of red, yellow, and blue braided plastic cut from a childs jump rope, and made into a fiery whip.)

The lesson having been "taught" (A private matter between Mistress, and I.)It was time to deal with a punnishment spanking I had coming, for falling asleep in church. Mistress usually uses a switch for this pacticular offense, but not having a fresh one available, she decided on using the rod instead. (For new readers,the rod is a thin whippy plastic switch that stings like pure fire.) The punnishment for falling asleep in church is to be whipped up, and down starting with 25 on my bottom,25 on the back of my thighs, and (oh god!!) 25 on my calves Then repeating the process in reverse. 25 more on my calves (oh god!), 25 on the back of my thighs, and ending with 25 on my bare bottom. (Mistress got started switching my calves, after reading that a reletive of her favorite author, Robert Heinlein, used to switch his.)

This punnishment is always an ordeal I dread. I hate being whipped on my calves. god it hurts! But tonight I was already on fire from the intense whipping I'd just recieved with the candy strap. I was red from my waist to my knees, and marked with stinging red welts. The heat from them actually making the sheet warm beneath me.

"Are you ready little bunny?" Mistress asked. "Oh please Mistress!" I begged. "It hurrts!" "Iknow, but we have to take care of this." She soothed. "Just a little longer, and it'll all be over." I just cried. I thought of asking for a reprieve. I even thought of using a safe word. But the personal shame of doing that to get out of punnishment was worse to me than the whipping to come.
Mistress started in on my burning bottom, the rod bringing fresh fire. I wiggled, I Moaned. I begged. Mistress whipped.
It continued on my thighs, with the rod's raised welts overlaying the hot red lines from the strap. God it hurt! I was sweating.
Then the lightening began on my calves. I knew it wouldn't change anything, but I pleaded anyway. "Oh please ma'am!" "Almost done little bunny." after a brief rest to catch my breath the final fiery trip back up my legs began. I felt lost in an endless whipping. Sobbing like a child. At last it ended.

I was allowed to rub, and to sit on my wooden chair. (A kinky pleasure Mistress indulges me in...I love the feel of the cool smooth wood on my hot striped bottom, and legs!) "OOOOH!" I whimpered. Sitting hurt. We spoke briefly. Mistress soothing, and comforting her goodboy. I felt incredibly submissive! Small. I was clingy, and very meek.

"I think you need your sleep little bunny." Mistress said. "Get your bunny, and get on your bed. Mistress is going to go ahead, and tuck you in." I started to cry all over again. "Do I haveta go to bed ma'am?" I wailed. I had napped earlier, and was wide awake. Plus being put to bed right after a spanking felt like I was still being punnished. Mistress was sweet, but firm. "I think Bunny needs his sleep baby. So get that hot little bottom on your bed."
Mistress told me goodnight, and that she loved me very much, which took some of the sting out of it. But I still lay in the dark hugging my big blue bunny, and crying for awhile. :(

PUNNISHED, AND PUT TO BED

When the phone rang,I checked the caller id, knowing who it was. I was in trouble.
"Hello?" I said. I felt very contrite. "Hello little bunny" she answered.
I heard obvious affection in Mistress's voice, but she was all business. I was made to go to the bathroom, get my door closed & locked, and stripped. It was punnishment time.
I was told to get the candy strap, and get on the bed. "Lets start with fifty, good, and hard, on that bottom." Mistress set me on fire! God, that thing hurts!I began to cry. After those were finnished she moved to the backs of my thighs, and started a fire there with fifty strokes with that strap. Then it was back to my burning bottom for fifty more, and back to my thighs. I began to beg.
"Please?" I whimpered, in the smallest voice I could manage. Mistress continued to rain fire on my bare bottom, and legs. I was sobbing openly now.
"Fifty more on those thighs Bunny." she said quietly. "Oh please!" I cried. "Now!" Her voice was hard. I moaned, but complied. My legs, and bottom were hot. With new lines of fire being added relentlessly. I was being taught a lessen. And the lesson was going to be learned. I lost track of the number of strokes after awhile, and just cried & begged in a red fog of pain.

Finally it stopped. I was allowed to rest for a bit, and catch my breath. Then it was time for the rod...
((to be continued....))

MY BUNNY

I recieved a belated birthday present recently. Mistress was tight lipped about what it was. "You'll see what it is when it gets there little bunny." She told me on the phone, the day she mailed it. "Just be sure your alone when you open it." OOH. That put my mind in delightfull overdrive! What was going to be in that box from Mistress?? Handcuffs? Some new implement to be spanked with? Something kinky I knew, or why should I be alone when I opened it? I began anxiously watching the mail. Counting the days on my calender. Wondering.

And then the day came! I hurried into my room clutching the box to my chest, and locked my door. I couldn't get it open! Too much tape! Where's my knife? Finally it was open, and there he was. MY BUNNY.My big blue bunny! He was huge! (over two feet tall) As big as a small child.And, OOH! His hands were tied. (I put the rope in my implement bag)He is wearing a HOGWARTS School Of Magic And Witchcraft t-shirt (AW) He was holding a plastic spatula. (It broke the first time we used it, oh well.) As soon as I had him untied (ooh mistress!) I hugged him to my chest, and murmerd to him. "My Bunny." And that's who he is. Bunny.

I read the hand written note from Mistress, and began to cry. She had taken a plastic heart , and sewn it into his chest. My bunny had a real heart. put into him, with love, from Mistress. How beautifull! How thoughtfull! The love, and effort that went into this, very personal, gift! I was, and am, so deeply touched.

I fell in love with him immediately. He is a real, physical representation ,of the deep bond of affection Mistress has for me. I sleep with him every night. I get on my bed, and cuddle him. I've held him to my chest when I was sick, and afraid. I put a Chicago Cubs hat on him (just like mine), and we watch the Cubs. I've had him on my lap when I was chatting with Mistress on Yahoo Messenger. When I leave for work I put the remote in his lap, and say. "Watch what you want buddy." Kiss him on the head, and leave. I am unashamedly in love with my bunny. Even when I don't go to sleep with him in my arms, I always wake up with him there. I go to him in my sleep.

I think he misses Mistress a little though.

Grab Bag

So little bunny and I have added a new game to the mix. We call it grab bag spanking. Basically he closes his eyes, reaches into the toy bag and pulls out whatever he touches first. Then I decide how many he gets with it and where.

We both enjoy the suspense of the unknown this has added to our playtime. I'm enjoying the extra challenge of improvising a spanking with whatever comes out. I think it is quickly becoming our favorite game.

Here bunny, bunny, bunny! >:)

Ms. Betty

Ow! She..Ow! Loves..Ow! Ow! Me..OWW!

I won't say what it was for personal reasons, but I did something the other night, that had potentially fatal consequences. An accident, a very stupid lapse of saftey, with a dangerous possesion.I had told a mutual friend of ours (Hi Jon!)during a phone conversation, and he joked that if he told Ms Betty that she would whip me good. Knowing he was right I begged him not to. He laughingly assured me that my secret was safe with him. So what did I do? I told on my self.
Oh I passed it off as a joke on myself. I told myself she would just share in the humor of it all. But I think I knew all along what her reaction would be. What I wanted it to be. What I needed it to be. I had done something stupid, and dangerous. Scared myself. And I needed to be punnished, so I wouldn't forget, and just laugh it off. I needed to remember this.
The effect on our conversation was immediate. Gone was the playfull banter. Her voice hardened, focused. I was in trouble. She wasn't mad, her lecture wasn't harsh, and there was none of the scorn that signals that I've let her down. This was differen't. And then she said it. "How do think I'd feel if I lost my Bunny?" I had scared her! Even through the disapointment, and frustration with me, I could hear it in her voice.
A mix of emotions played for my attension. Fear. Affection. Shame.Happiness. Mistress loves me...
"Get that door closed, and get your pants off." Fear won. "Get out your candy strap." Yep definitely fear. I was about to get my wish. I wouldn't forget this. No long lecture, no warm up. Mistress began laying that strap to my bare bottom hard. I began to vocalize from the first searing stripe. When she had set me ablaze there she moved down to the backs of my thighs. Begging, and crying began. God she was whipping me! I wiggled. I howled. I pleaded. Mistress whipped.
"now get that ping pong paddle" She said. And then the lecture began. Her voice had that focused lazer edge, that says "You will not forget this messege" She set me on fire with that paddle. Baking in the welts, as I cried, and pleaded. With my legs, and bottom striped,and crimson, I was told to turn off my computer. I was going to bed..now.
"I want you to remember this young man"
And I will ma'am. I promise.

Pounced!!

9:30a.m.
"I feel like pouncing a bunny" She said. "Get your clothes off"
So here I sit on my smooth, cool, hard wooden chair, naked except for her collar. My thighs, and bare bottom hot, and red from her big wooden spoon. I'm not allowed to dress. I'm allowed to "tickle" but not to cum. "I have some things to do little bunny, We'll talk later." The game begins again.
I can't think of anything but Mistress. I'm naked. I see the sunshine outside, but can't go out. The feeling of being a prisoner in my house adds to the deep submission I feel. I prowl the house restlessly, feeling so vulnerable. I just cleaned out the catboxes the spilled litter grinding into my bare knees. Ooh.

12:15p.m.
"I'll have the grilled bunny please." She said sweetly. We exchanged a bit of conversation, and then. "Go find that switch It's time to grill a bunny." I scurried to comply feeling incredibly submissive! "I have the switch ma'am."
She wasted no time. She put me on the bed, and proceeded to set me on fire all over with the switch. My sore bottom, and the backs of my thighs were first. Then she went between them with the switch. After twenty-five scorching lines on each inner thigh, she switched my thing on the sensitive underside just below the head, as I wiggled , and cried out with each one.
"God it's so hard Mistress!" I gasped as she rained fire on it with the switch. She said. "ofcourse mistress's toy heard her call."
She left me striped red all over, tickling my hot sore thing, warning me not to have any "accidents."

12:55p.m.
Oh god!! I had barely started drafting the last paragraph, when She was back! I whimpered. "hello?" "Get that ping pong paddle." And I was quickly put back on the bed where I was soundly blistered. god she paddled me! I was told to put the paddle away, and allowed to rub, before being returned to the chair. "Ooh mistress." I gasped as my sore bottom made contact with the wood. "Spanked, whipped all over, and spanked again." She agreed, and after giving me instructions to post an answer to some questions on another blog she left me to my own devices (naked,striped,red), knowing more was coming.

1:30p.m.
More came. "Flyswatter." came the order. "lets start with 12 good, and hard on that thing." I lay naked, my legs open, it was time to "sing" for Mistress. I gasped, and cried out with each fiery sting on the head of my shaft. Then she whipped the back of my thighs, and bare bottom, the swatter stung like mad on my already sore nakedness. "Put the swatter away, and you can rub, and tickle." she teased. "You want to sit on your chair?" (She knows me so well) She left me to wonder what she would do next. And when.
So here I sit, naked, trying to concentrate on my Cubbies. They have the Bluejays 7-0 in the 6th inning. All i can think about though is how striped, and sore I am. And the fact that Mistress said we hadn't even begun...
3:02p.m.
Oh god oh god oh god! "Go get ice" she said. I returned to my room with a bowl of icecubes, and was made to apply a cube to my bare bottom until it melted, then whipped with the rod on my freshly iced rear. God it hurt!! And it went on. OOh! Fire, and ice.
Then she made me apply the ice to my thing. I moaned. I cried out. I wiggled like a fish out of water. "Be sure to get it good all over." she told me. "Sides, top,bottom, are you getting that head good?" "Oh god, yes ma'am!" I half gasped half moaned. "Good bunny." " Now take another cube, and run it over those balls."
As much as I was vocalizing by now I'm surprized the neighbors didn/t hear. That ice being applied to my balls felt like cold fire, and after a bit they began to ache from the cold. Leaving no stone unturned I was made to run Ice up, and down my crack.OH MY GOD! I arched my back raising completely off the bed as the ice touched me "there" (god I'm blushing like a schoolboy)
Another cube was applied to my shaft again making me moan, and oooh. Then it was trailed up my chest. It was time for some nipple torture. Both nipples were iced good, and whipped hard with the rod. I began to cry. God it hurt! My little nipples are incredibly sensitive. It was only twelve each side, but seemed to go on forever. Mistress was working her boy over good today. She moved back down to my shaft, and after icing it with another cube, she made me get out the candy strap, and set my icecold penis ablaze! God she whipped it! I howled. When she finnished this session I was hard as a rock, and limp as a dishrag. I layed, and whimpered.
Another session was coming.
5:18p.m.
"I'm thinking hairbrush."she said by way of greeting."The oval one hanging on your wall." Oh Oh oh! Kept naked, except for her collar, all day. Spanked, whipped, tortured, and spanked, and whipped some more. mmmmmmmmmmmm. She proceeded to light me up with that brush. bottom, thighs,bottom, thighs, until I felt like I was sitting on a hot iron. "Ok little bunny do you want to rub, or sit on your chair?" she laughed when I said both. Then I made a request, and was granted permission to get out my spikey matt, and sit my freshely seared bottom, and lergs on it. I was lightly tickling my hard shaft on the sensitive underside, quietly moaning, and enjoying the burn of the spikes on my hot bottom, when Mistress told me to get out my massager..MMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM!
But I was not allowed to cum. Mistress was not through with me yet.
8:20 pm
"you know that short leather strap you have in your bag?Get that."
So again I found myself on the bed being whipped. she started on my inner thighs,and as usual I started off not too impressed with that little strap. Oh it stung a little, but the flyswatter hurts worse. Then she started in on my nipples. I was crying by the third stroke. I quickly gained respect for that little piece of leather, moaning and wiggling as finnished the left, and started in on the right. I was howling by the time she shifted down to my shaft. For the forth time today my thing was whipped hot, and red.It burned with every stroke,but every third, or fourth blow landed on the head bringing an incredible sting! I was so hard.
"Ok little bunny." Mistress said when it was over."Do you want to rub?" I told her I'd rather tickle it. She knows I love to tickle it when it's sore from her attention. But I was still not allowed to cum. Mistress wasn't through hurting me yet..

10:26p.m.
Her messenger window opened on my cpu with one word..POUNCE!! After I answered her the next messege was just as short.GET YOUR RULER. I asked..FLEXIBLE? AsI was reading her answer of YES. The phone rang. She took that flexible rubber ruler to my bare backside, and inner thighs until I was crying again. God that thing hurts! She went after the backs of my thighs for a bit, then returned to my inner thighs leaving me red, hot, and sobbing. I was allowed to rub (and tickle). And told she wasn't through yet.

11:02p.m.
Mistress said she had spagetti for dinner. "Hmmn."" she mused. "Spagetti is kinda stringy..Lets get that penis whip you made. (I MADE IT OUT OF LEATHER, AND ROUND CLOTH SHOE LACES. THE HANDLE IS A DUCT TAPED CLOTHESPIN. THE KNOTS AT THE END OF THE FALLS STING LIKE MAD) she went to work on my thing with that penis whip. The fifth whipping my shaft had felt today. I was quickly thrashing, and moaning again. Not6 wanting to leave anything out Mistress whipped my inner thighs a while, before returning to my thing. being sure the top,bottom, sides, and head were given attension. I howled.
Now it's 12:04a.m. I am waiting again for mistress. She said I haven't had the grand finale' yet....
12:12p.m.
'I want you to get that belt." she said. "Which ever one you see first." It turned out to be my reversable one. It's narrower, but thicker than the wide one. they both hurt about the same. "now mistress instructed."Were going to go back, and forth cheeck to cheek till I stop. Good, and hard." The belt fell hard. All over my bare backside, and my thighs. God it was hurting! I was soon in tears again. Moaning. Crying out at paticularly hard strokes, or ones that caught a sensitive place. I didn't think it was ever going to end. I was still sobbing after it did.
"Now i want you to kneel in the middle of the floor, and I want you to ask me for one more spanking. I did as I was told. Feeling incredibly submissive. Whipped. Spanked. Tortured. Teased.
"Mistress." I said in a very small voice. "Will you give me another spanking..please!" I was told to get the ketchup paddle. (THATS A BIG HEAVY PADDLE THAT USED TO BE A HIENZ KETCHUP THERMOMETER. I was crying hard by the third swat, and there were 15 more to go. Sobbing, and sniffling I was made to kneel naked in the middle of my room, and masturbate until I came. It only took a few minutes. I was conquered. Whipped. teased. spanked.tortured, on, and off for 15 hours. Five differen't stingy implements used on my thing. I spurted three times. god it felt so good! So embarrassing. mistress made me clean up my sticky mess. It is time to put me to bed.
terry

Mistress's toy

Oh god!! Last night mistress said "I haven't decided yet what I'm going to do."She laughed evily."I may spank you. I may not. I may whip your thing, and make you write mistress's toy on it, before you go into work."
She decided this morning. Ooh. She set my bottom, and the backs of my thighs on fire with her big wooden spoon. Then she moved in between them, and blistered my inner thighs too.
"Now."she said. "Lets do 12 good, and hard on that shaft with that spoon." I cried out with every one. God it hurt! More followed until my thing was hot, red, and hard. Then, true to her word, she made me write Mistress's toy on the side of my shaft!
All day at work my sore inner thighs reminded me of her spanking. My mind kept going back to this morning, and Mistress's toy was hard most of the day. God i feel so submissive! Her toy.
-Terry-

Mistress

When I typed the word a little thrill went down my back, and I smiled a contented, happy smile. I love her ofcourse, and think of her all the time. What would Mistress think? What would Mistress do? Is she happy? Is she painting? Is she thinking of her good boy so far away?

Look at her. The girl next door.I love her beautifull red hair. Sweet, demure, lost in her palate.I remember this day well.We spent the whole day in my room. Mistress painted, and I served her. I played dj keeping a flow of music on my stereo. (Mistress had two or three, must have cds, that she paints by.) I played her some favorites from my collection. And we talked, talked talked, thuroughly enjoying each other's company. I emptied her brush water when it became too cloudy, replacing it with fresh. Kept her supplied with paint rags. I cooked, and served breakfast, snacks, and lunch. And I found lost things, in the ever-shifting chaos, that is Ms Betty painting. She gets so lost in the creative process, that everything else disapears as soon as she lays it down. "Where's my blue, Terry?" She wouldn't hurt a fly.
A day or so earlier it was a completely different story. We had the house to ourselves, and Mistress was in a very differen't mood. A mood to hurt her boy,again, and again. She spanked me in almost every room of the house. She was ready to play. I was in the laundry room..whap! whap! whap! In the pantry after snacks..Whap! whap! whap! I was stood up against the front door in the living room,pants lowered, and spanked. A bit later at the sink things intensified. After a brisk, hard spanking bent over the kitchen counter, mistress spun me around, grabbed my thing, and led me into the bathroom, doing the pants down shuffle. Oh god I felt submissive!
"your not really in trouble..go with me." She said, pulling me into the bathroom. "Now young man we will deal with that filthy mouth of yours." She then proceeded to wet a rag,soap it, and wash out my mouth good! All over my tongue, my inner cheeks, all over. Ooh! "Spit." she ordered. "And rinse out your mouth."
I did as I was told. I was in naughty boy heaven. I used to marvel at guys talking about being aroused by having their mouthes washed out with soap. Now,lost in the moment, living the fantasy, I understood. As I stood with my elbows on the sink, and my pants around my ankles, she reached across over my back,and took the heavy plastic bathbrush off it's hook. She proceeded to blister my bare bottom. God that thing hurt! And she was a machine. Fast hard spank followed fast hard spank, until I was on fire. Mistress loves to make me beg.
Finally, she hung the bathbrush back on the shower caddy. My legs, and bare bottom were hot, red, and sore. She ordered me back to my room, pants around my ankles, where her implement bag lay. it was time to play rough....

Chain Of Command

I don't believe in bratting. Never have. I personaly think it is disrespectfull. It is my submission to Mistress that brings me my bliss. How could I bait her for attension, or abuse, and truley call myself submitted? It doesn't work for me.
Early on in our relationship we established who was the cat, and who was the mouse (bunny?) in the game we play. When I finally totally surrendered to her authority ,the friction between us vannished. She was resolute. She would have nothing else.
And that is the way it still is between us to this day. When I forget my place punnishment is swift, and memorable. For minor breaches I might find myself getting a hot lengthly paddling. Worse case scenario finds me naked,kneeling, in the corner on the sharp little nubs of my punnishment matt..My bottom & thighs hot, and striped red. Order resumed.
That isn't to say we don't have our ways of comunicating my desire for play. From the begining Mistress has told me that if I wanted, or needed a spanking, to just ask her. And we've established a couple of "safe" ways for me to get playfull corporal attension without taunting, or trying to make her irritated enough to spank me.
It was established on her 360 page months ago that bad puns, or jokes would be grounds for spankings. Mistress would "applaud" my efforts with the ping pong paddle. The sound of one hand clapping as it were. So occasionally a comedey blog of cheesey jokes appears on 360, resulting in a "rabbit roasting." Hmmmnn. It's been a pretty good while since the last one too.
Being the little scamp that I am, I sometimes sing that commercial.."their ain't no bugs on me" using my own words. There ain't no rods on meeeeee their ain't no rods on meeeeeee
there might be rods on some of you sods...but there ain't no rods on meeeeeee!!!
(a reference to "the rod" a painfull plastic switch I have in my toybag) Sometimes this would get me a switching, sometimes a..."Carefull Little Bunny!" from Mistress. OOh. I love a scolding from Mistress, when I'm not in trouble. It was decided last week though that my singing that song would bring out the rod every time. Mistress decided that that way I could have another "safe" way to ask for play. remembering ofcourse that Mistress plays rough.
I was feeling friskey the other night, and actually sang it a second time.EEP! Mistress set me on fire with that rod. I waas through singing for the night. Striped red hot, and feeling so submissive! I slept with her hairbrush clutched in my hand. My hand next to my heart.
We were discussing this game of "cat, and Mouse" we play last night. The fact that the only way to win the game is to be the cat.
"Who always wins the game?" she asked me playfully?"
As David Crosby said.."Choice is your souls moment for it's light to shine." Feeling very scampish, and in my "little" voice I answered.."DA Bunny!!!"
The answer was electric. "GET that rod!" Gone was the playfull tone. "Ma'am?" I asked nervously. "Fetch!" "Now."
I quickly found myself bare, and striped red. 25 hard strokes on the backs of my thighs. Fifty on my sitspots just as hard. Leaving me whimpering.
"Now" She said. "Who always wins little bunny mine?" The playfull tone was back. Order re established.
In a very small voice I answered her.
"You always win Mistress."

Playtime

I started by spanking him, good and hard, first with the ping pong paddle, then with the candy strap.

The first thing little bunny likes to do after a play spanking is sit down on his hard wooden chair and enjoy the feel of the his weight on his hot, sore bottom. Tonight was a little different, though. After a moment he asked if he could put his mat on his chair. The mat is bad. The mat is evil. The mat is what I make him kneel on when he's been a bad boy. But tonight, he reveled in pressing his sore bottom into those mean little spikes.

But we weren't done there.

I made him get up and fetch the flyswatter, then sit back down on the mat. We used the flyswatter between his legs, making his shaft as hot and sore as his bottom. As the blows landed he wriggled on the spikes, whimpering more and more loudly.

But we still weren't done.

We found his special comb and ran the teeth up and down the underside of his shaft. Bunny moaned. It hurt, but it felt so, so, good.

And still we weren't done.

I made him fetch the dog chain. Once he settled back onto the mat his hands were bound with the chain. Bunny was very, very excited. I made him masturbate for me with the cold steel wrapped around his wrists. When he finished I made him clean up while still bound.

And then we were done.

I do believe bunny had a very good time.

Ms. Betty

Yipes Stripes !

Mmmmmmmmmmm. I'm a contented bunny. I just got off the phone with the most wonderfull Mistress a boy could have. We had another marathon phone conversation. As usual it started online. She put me in her Google version Of "Ladies Who Enjoy Spanking Men", and wanted me to check it out & see what I thought. Eep! Yep there was that picture of me in the corner. bottom red, and my pants at half mast. I'm still getting used to pictures of me bare on the internet.

We branched out from there. Talking about everything under the sun.(or in this case the moon?) Music. Computers. Yahoo, and how it's driving us nuts. Friends, and family ofcourse, and woven through it all us. Me being a playfull little scamp, but never bratting, wanting a playtime spanking. Mistress being..well.Mistress. Wise, curious about everything, Mind constantly in motion. reading, conversing, and working puzzles. Never missing a thing. "You did what?" She'll say stopping me in mid babble.

If I'm not in trouble, or expecting punnishment, I love it when her voice turns strict. Ooh. I get such a thrill being gently scolded by her. "And what did I tell you about making assumptions?" I can just see the expression on her face. Then the conversation resumes, and we're off to the races again. Talking about everything from Make up to aircraft carriers. Kittens,husbands,daughters, and how we love them. She has the husband, I have the daughter, and ofcourse we both have multiple cats.

And before we knew it it was after 3 am again. Mistress was about to say goodnight, so I gave it one more playfull, respectfull ploy.

"Well" I said innocently (ruefully). "I guess this time I got away with singing the Ain't no rods on me song." "Get it" She came back immediately.

"Maam?" I asked "Get the rod." "I never get away with nothin" I said in my "little" voice." "Darn right!" she replied.

So here I sit ablaze. (yummy) Hot red stripes from the rod all over. God that thing hurts! She whipped my bare bottom, the backs of my thighs, and...oooh! My inner thighs. She left me near tears. Mistress plays rough. mmmmm. She knows what her little bunny likes.

She came to me online to say good night. "Sleep tight little bunny." "Goodnight." ......"Be naughty." You know me well Mistress. Sleep well.

A Year Ago Today...

Where does the time get to? Can a whole year really have passed since this person stepped into my life? The calendar says so, but the standard cliches apply. It feels like we've know each other so much longer, yet at the same time it feels like only days have passed since we first met.

Oh what a year it's been! We've both lost people, found others, and taken each other places we never dreamed we'd go.

The story of our early days has been told many times, from Terry's point of view and mine. I will not repeat it as I don't want it worn thin. It's ingrained in our memories permanently and the rest of you have already heard it.

But what I will say is that there were many firsts in our relationship and when thinking about this milestone it took some thinking to decide what day would truly be "our" day. When did we become what we've become? The first time I spanked him? The first time he called me "Mistress" and forever changed the way I saw the word? The first time we spoke? All of these are treasured things, but as submission is about surrender, about the giving of oneself to another and the acceptance of that gift, we decided that only one day would do; The day he asked to be mine.

And that was what he did, a year ago today when that stern, rugged, slightly gruff, oh so sure of himself man melted into a shy boy and barely got the question out. His world changed, my world changed, and neither of us has looked back with the slightest bit of regret. He's been mine ever since, and he always will be.

So, little bunny, here's to our first year, and the many more to come.

Mistress

A Dangerous Mood

I get in those from time to time, and while the world at large is generally safe they do spell doom for a certain little bunny and his tender little tail.

The other night I asked little bunny if his bottom was tingling. He said "no, why?"

Because we were getting out the Spidy paddle, that's why.

I gave this paddle to little bunny during my visit out to him back in March. It's a slightly flexible plastic paddle about 1/8 of an inch thick. The head is 4 inches wide, just big enough for one cheek or those tender sit spots. The paddle is a bit heavy for it's size, but light as far as spanking implement goes and stings something fierce. I have several of these paddles with different cartoon characters on them. (All found at my local Dollar Tree store, if anyone is interested.) They are quite ouchie.

"Ohhh!" bunny said when I told him to get the paddle. 50 swats on each cheek of his bare bottom. Then 50 more (again this is a fairly light implement, it stings, but it mostly produces an over all red warmth. Very good for warm ups.) Then 50 on the back of each thigh and bunny was wiggling like a little fish. "I can see why Mooska doesn't like those things," he pouted.

Aw, poor bunny; and we were just getting started, too.

Next we got out the special whip he made for me to use on his genitals. After whipping his shaft for awhile, I had him take to the insides of his thighs, stinging them nicely as well.

We finished with something we don't do often. Belts are very hard to use for self spanking, but Terry has gotten enough practice at this point to be fairly accurate and effective with them. I didn't give him a set number, I just made him alternate for cheek to cheek until I said stop. As the crack of the belt sounded again and again I sat back to listen, and to wait.

It didn't take too long to hear what I wanted to hear.

"Please," he said is a quiet, plaintive tone.

"Keep going," I said.

The slaps went on awhile longer.

"Please," he said again. Again, I made him keep going.

The licks continued. He started to cry. "I'll be good, I'll be good," he pleaded, but that wasn't what I wanted to hear. The whipping continued.

At last he said it; "please!" the magic 3rd time. I made him continue for another dozen strokes and then let him stop.

He was sniffling, crying and very very sore, but happy. The very first thing he did (after putting his toys away, he really is a very good boy) was go straight to his wooden chair to sit down so he could tell me how much the wood hurt his burning bottom.

silly bunny. (:))

Ms. Betty

Penis Whipping

Switches can be used for playtime too. Specially if you have a Mistress that likes to play rough....
Seldom does our reality live up to our fantasy. Perhaps because
they are usually long held tales, retold in our minds, for years.
Embelished, polished, and refined to a cresendo over years. What a
joy it is then, when the reality not only meets the fantasy in
intensity, but surpasses it.
I remember reading a book as a teenager called "A Worm In The
Bud" A thick sprawling book awash in sexually charged whipping,
spanking, nettles, you name it. I made sticky little messes reading
this book for years. Whips, crops, and all manner of implements being
used"all over" naked men and women. But the sequences
that always had aroused me the most were the ones where women were
using switches on young men. And if they became aroused during these
whippings (and they always did) They would recieve hard whippings on
their hard, bare penises! OOOOh!! The idea of a woman punnishing me
there has always resulted in incredible arousal for me.
So the night I found myself naked, kneeling, legs open, with my
hands behind my back, and Mistress holding a pecan switch she had
made me cut for her....OOOOOOH! ! I was so hard! I couldn't believe
what was about to actually happen, after years of fantasizing about
it!!
We had been doing obedience training.I was naked except for my
brand new, black leather, collar.(the boy in me took delight in the
fact that it smelled just like a new baseball glove) When I got a
task right Mistress would tickle my shaft with the feather end of a
crop. If I made a mistake I felt the slapper end. I was in an
incredibly submissive frame of mind. Kneeling, naked, head, and eyes
down, in front of my Mistress! Then came the command...
"Fetch the switch out of your bag" I brought it to her in my
mouth. Offering it up to her, glancing into her eyes briefly, looking
at the floor again as she took it. "GOOD BOY!"
She whipped me with the switch. My bottom, the backs of my
thighs. Hard. I whimpered, and cried out. She continued for a bit to
rain fire on me, bringing me to a cresendo of moans, cries, and
finally pleas. Then the switch was tickling my rock hard shaft!
Her voice was honey, as she teased me. All the while tickling me
there with the switch. I wiggled, and quietly moaned in pleasure, and
then she completed the fantasy! Fire! Each stroke was like
electricity on my penis! She covered it completely in fire. Whipping
down on the top of my shaft. Admonishing me to stop moving away from
the switch, or she would start over. Oh God!! I couldn't stand it!
God it hurt! I wanted it to go on! And it did. She calmed me down.
Tickled it again with the switch. Spoke soothingly .Teasing again.
Then started a series of strokes aimed upward searing the
sensitive "sweetspot" some call the male clitorus. Oh god!
I jumped! She warned me yet again to be still, or she would start
over. I begged. I cried. I tried hard to keep my hands on my head,
almost covering up three times. All three times she let me regain
position, and resumed torturing the underside of my shaft with fiery
strokes with that switch!
She finally had had enough. She secured my shaft, and balls where
they stuck out, with a piece of small link chain. Tied my hands out
of the way. Then she announced that she hadn't gotten a chance to
really play rough with me yet. And she began to get out whips,crops,
clothespins, and I noticed this smile..on her face..Ohh god.....
-TERRY-

Into Every Life

By and large, Terry is a good boy, that is how he got his original nickname, but sometimes even the best behaved bunnies find themselves in trouble.

My second night in town I agreed to go to church services with him. This was something he had been looking forward to since he knew I was coming. You see, Terry as a little problem with church. No matter how hard he tries, he almost always falls asleep during the service. Nothing seems to be able to stop it, but he was sure with a warm, sore bottom and me right beside him he would make it through.

Unfortunately, he didn't. This is not good news for little bunny. The price for falling asleep in church is a high one, and Mistress was going to make him pay it as soon as we were back home.

The standard punishment for dozing off is a switching, literally from his waist to his ankles. He gets 25 strokes on each cheek of his bottom, 25 on the back of each thigh, and 25 on the back of each calf. Then after a brief rest, we work our way back up, 25 on the calves, 25 on the thighs, 25 on each bottom cheek.

And this time Mistress was here to administer them herself.

Back in the privacy of his room he removed his pants, rolled down his socks and got on the bed. I went to the corner and retrieved the nice supple pecan switch waiting by the door. With his head buried in a pillow, Terry was already sniffling.

I did the strokes on his bottom across both cheeks instead of one at a time. I made them hard, but not full strength, and left plenty of time for each to sink in before the next.

There was begging, there was howling, there was crying, but he got every single stroke.

And here are the results:

Now that certainly kept him wide awake.

Ms. Betty

First Night In Town

We've been disrupted, distracted, and disturbed so often in the last week or so that I lost the thread of the narrative of my visit to Terry. It's about time we got back to it.

We're going to back up a little and start at the beginning.

I left the house around 7:30 that morning. My flight left at 11. They said be there by 9. I was. It was 3 o'clock by the time I was on the ground in Nashville. From there I still had a 3 hour layover and then an 90 minute bus ride from Nashville to Cookeville.

The bus left Nashville over an hour late. By the time we got in the door It was after 9 PM. I'd been on the road for 13 1/2 hours. I was tired, hungry, and hurt all over from the fall I took when my rolling bag collapsed. (Let me take a moment to once again thank the TSA for being so careless as to unscrew the supports in my bag and then NOT PUT THEM BACK!)

Really I should have gone straight to bed, but I needed a shower first and by the time I'd had that and some dinner I felt mostly revived, so we sat up a bit and waited for others in the house to go to bed. As we talked I knew from the look in Terry's eyes that he was waiting as anxiously for what was to come as I was.

At last the house quieted around us. I crooked my index finger and beckoned him to me. He stood up, took a long, shuddering breath and came to me. I slipped his pants off, and for the first time he went over my knee.

This was not a punishment spanking. The swats came in a slow, sensual rhythm while he wriggled and moaned on my lap. I used his toys this first time. After my hand I tried his candy strap and the hairbrush I had sent him for Christmas. He was a very red, very sore, very happy bunny.

I let him up. He pressed both hands to his bottom and said "ooh!" Then he saw the gleam in my eye. His eyes widened.

"Fetch your belt."

"Yes, Ma'am," he said eagerly. I put him across the bed with a pillow under his hips and started in with that thick, wide strip of leather. He yelped and wriggled as it bit into is already sore bottom. "Oh God, oh God" he kept saying.

Now that he was warmed up it was time to get out some of my toys. I dug deep into my bag and dug out an assortment of floggers. I did not give him a full flogging, but I did give him just a taste, enough to whet his appetite for later.

I started with the hair whips, first the loose hank and then the braided cat. Both felt scratchy but not quite stingy and pinked up the skin on his shoulders. Next I moved to the silicone flogger. "Purple gurl!" he calls it, after the little purple devil emoticon that always signals imminent danger for my little bunny. He liked purple girl. The silicone falls are very thin, about like angel hair pasta, but the soft material makes them mostly thuddy, with just a little sting.

Terry was floating, but not quite ready for it to be over. I dug into the bag for a slightly more intense leather flogger.

Well, cat actually if you want to get technical. This is another of my homemade creations. I saw the belt it was made of at a local thrift store and saw definite potential in those zig-zagging strips. There is a bite to this whip, but it leaves more of a general redness than individual welts.



It's a bit odd I think that the less intense welts leave a more visible impact on the skin. That is because the less intense floggers cover a larger area of the skin, so the force is more evenly distributed than it is with the narrow tails of the cats or the dragon tongue. The more you "share the wealth" or the force of the blows, the more general redness and the fewer distinct welts you get.

By the time we stopped it was one o'clock in the morning. We had things to do bright and early the next day, so it was time for bed. Terry curled up sore and tired, but warm and happy, knowing there was much, much more to come.

Ms. Betty

I'm In Trouble.

When she hung up on me the night before I knew I was in trouble. I was right. She wasted no time. After a brief, but withering scolding that left me miserable, she made me get my narrow leather belt. It's a reversable belt, black on one side, brown on the other, with some sort of core in the middle. This makes it heavy for it's size, and one inch width. And god does it hurt. Mistress made me take off my pants, and set to work with that belt.
I began to vocalize with the first searing stroke. The room filled with the sounds of punnishment. The sharp smack of that belt on my bare bottom, and cries and moans from me. She gave me fifty hard strokes on one cheeck, then reversed directions, and set the other cheek on fire with fifty more. Then with my sit spot stinging, and burning, mistress lowered her sights, and began striping the backs of my thighs. that belt was pure fire on my bare legs. I started making serious noise now.
"Oh God!" "OH Mistress !" I began to sob. The belt continued until each thigh was striped red. Fifty burning lines of heat.
"Get that oval hairbrush."Mistress said coldly " The one I sent you."
The brush began to be applied to the "sit spot" of my bottom. That tender area where thigh meets bottom. God it stung. I began to cry. The brush continued to fall. Fifty smacks, and a brief lecture, Then the brush began again. I started pleading with Mistress. She had a point to make. the brush continued to rain fire on my hot striped bottom. Fifty more fell.
"Oh please Mistress!" I wailed. "Oh God!" The brush continued it's work. I wiggled, I pleaded, I sobbed, and Mistress spanked. After a final fifty on my burning cheeks, she began searing my thighs. Doing what she calls "baking in the welts" Going over those hot belt welts with that hairbrush, and setting me on fire!! I felt suspended in time. nothing exhisted except Mistress's anger, and the fire burning on my legs. I didn't think it was ever going to end. And it didn't.
":Get that cane!" Mistress snapped.
"Oh God! I wailed." Mistress please!"
"Get it...Now!!"
I scrambled to fetch the cane from under my bed. Whimpering.Crying.
Dreading it. Hating it. Fearing it. Knowing there was no escape.
I recieved twelve hard strokes lengthwise, leaving long hot burning lines down each thigh. I cried out with each one. Whimpered, and begged between them. She began a series of fire on my bare bottom. Hard strokes. With time between them to hurt, and dread the next. Twelve on each side. The longest count of twenty-four I can remember. Leaving me still sobbing, and begging.
"Oh please Mistress!" "Please Don't-"
" Were done little Bunny." she soothed me. "Put your toys away, and you can rub." "It's all over."
I continued to sob quietly for awhile. As much out of shame of having disapointed again, as from the burning on my legs, and bottom.
"I'm sorry Mistress! I said miserably.
"Shhh." She said. "It's alright now."
And then it was....

Moving Day (reprise)

So here I am. In my new home. Where's the store from here? What are the neighbors like? It still has that new paint smell. I still don't know where everything is, or how it works..But i will. And the keyword here is works. Everything does work. And the rest will come together with time.
To all my new neighbors here on Blogger..Howdy! (that's right I'm southern.) Welcome to our page. To all our friends, and family from 360..I am anxiously waiting to hear from you.
Mistress!!!!!!! Where's my fire engine?? I can't find my Harry Potter trainset!!! Mistress....hmmmph...I miss my moties.....
Terry

Kiss of the Dragon

A close up look at some of the welts left by the Dragon Tongue
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Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Tuesday April 1, 2008 - 03:18pm (CDT)

Answer to the triva question: The Difference between a Cat and a Flogger

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday April 6, 2008 - 03:26pm (CDT)

(picture chosen especially for Pip)

I will start with the usual disclaimer that nothing is quite universal so you may find different answers other places, but these guidelines tend to be a good place to start.

The difference between a cat and a flogger lies in the number of tails, or falls.

Generally speaking, if a whip has few enough tails that you can count them by looking, then it's a cat. However, if there are so many tails you would have to separate them with your fingers to count, then it's a flogger.

Another general guideline is that a cat has somewhere between two and twelve tails. Yep, that's right. While the most famous is the old cat-o'-nine, a cat need not have nine tails, many have 8 or 6 or even 5.

Cats also usually have woven or braided tails, but they need not to be counted as cats.

Between twelve and twenty we run into some ambiguity, but usually a whip with tweleve to twenty tails, or falls is considered a "double cat", though if the tails are unbraided or are not unique in some other way, it may be considered a flogger.

A whip with twenty to forty falls is considered a flogger. Usually flogger falls are unbraided, but not necessarily so. Floggers made of rope, sometimes with knotted ends, tend to be popular as a warm up or cool down toy. And as all rope is made up of braided fibers, if you make a flogger out of rope you end up with braided or twisted falls.

A flogger with forty or more tails (I've seen up to eighty tails on some) are called mops. These whips tend to be very heavy and are not used much, though.

So, just to recap:

2-12 tails: Cat

12-20 tails: Double Cat or small Flogger, depending on tail construction.

20-40 falls: Flogger

40+ falls: Mop

And that, boys and girls, is your dose of kinky technical sophistication for the week.

Now, this week's trivia question:

How did the original cat-o'-nine come about? What was it made of and why did it have 9 tails?

Ms. Betty

On Becoming Real...

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Thursday April 3, 2008 - 05:41pm (CDT)

By the 3^rd day of my visit to Terry he had been spanked both by me and another Domme friend of mine, flogged, bound, CBT-ed, put through his paces for obedience training, and collared.

So Friday we took a bit of a break for some vanilla things and to talk a bit about what we had done so far. During that afternoon Terry said “I finally feel real.” I understood what he meant. One’s first real time session has a way of changing your perspective on the world forever. In addition, though I had known how sincere his loyalty and devotion were since we began, there were some out in the wider world who felt the need to cast aspersions because he had not been through any real time ordeals. He took great pride in knowing no one could say that anymore.

Though he had the collar, I felt something more would be nice to commemorate the occasion. I thought about it for a short while. What do you give a bunny who has just become real? A brainwave hit, I made a phone call, and off we went to the book store. I was very lucky, there was only one copy of the book I wanted in all of Cookeville. I sent Terry off to play in the Science Fiction section while I found it and made my purchase. Once the clerk rang it up I wrote a quick inscription on the title page and went to present it to my bunny. He got very excited, and a little misty.

That night we had a very special story time. No pins, no plug. He curled up against my shoulder where he could see the pictures while I read him The Velveteen Rabbit.

The story turned out to be perfect for his transformation, the toy who first becomes real to the one who loves him, the doubt of the other “rabbits”, and then finally a magic lady with red hair and a “wand” that makes the bunny into a real live rabbit.

My bunny cried a little, and I did, too. I kissed his little nose and said goodnight.

Ms. Betty

___________________________________________________________

The Dragon Tongue

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday March 31, 2008 - 10:51pm (CDT)

This is the Dragon Tongue.

The Dragon Tongue is another of my devious homemade inventions.

Some time ago I found these interesting packages of multicolored "craft string" in the toy section at my local Dollar Tree. The "string" is actually hollow tubing about the diameter of spaghetti. Since my discovery I have used the tubing to make a large variety of evil implements for myself and a few close friends.

The Dragon Tongue is made from 15 stands of the tubing woven into a solid braid. Originally I thought of it as a strap, but with use I've found it acts more like a single tail. Think of the whips sled dog drivers use and you'll get the idea.

Not counting the handle, the whip measures about the length of my arm from finger tips to elbow, about half an inch wide, and just about 1/8 of an inch thick. I left about an inch of each strand unbraided to make the tip.

The Dragon Tongue got it's name because it's long, pink, rough, and each "lick" is pure fire. The lashes leave bright red weals everywhere it lands. It also happens to be nearly silent. Unfortunately, it is near impossible to bear the lashes given with it silently.

There is some debate even by my most experienced playmates as to which of my whips is the most severe, but the Dragon Tongue is definitely high on the list.

Funny thing, despite the agonizing pain of it, Terry found it was one of his favorites, one he craved the kiss of again and again.

Ms. Betty
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Terry's Favorite Cat

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday March 30, 2008 - 01:31pm (CDT)

Of all the things I used in Terry's floggings, this cat turned out to be his favorite. It is one I made myself: 9 flat braided tails with leaf ends in a sort of burgundy-brown suede.


Some of you may remember last May when I talked about dismantling my husband's old chair and recycling some of the leather, this is that leather. It is creamy soft, making for a more sensual whip. It is a favorite for warm-ups or massage flogging.


Trivia question: Does anyone know how you distingquish between a cat and a flogger?


Ms. Betty


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After the ears come off...

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday March 29, 2008 - 03:48pm (CDT)

Actually, this was taken the next morning, just after Terry got his first real flogging. We had played with a floggers a bit my first night there, but this was the first of several full floggings from warm up through to my most intense whips, 9 floggers and cats in all, plus a homemade variation on a single tail I call the Dragon's Tongue. This flogging went about an hour or so. (That is actually about standard for a proper flogging) and by the end he was one sore, striped bunny.

Sorry it's not a better picture, folks. We didn't have very good light.

The sore bottom is a result of a special visit with another Domme friend of mine, but that is a story for another post...

Ms. Betty
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Happy Belated Easter

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Friday March 28, 2008 - 10:23pm (CDT)

Happy belated Easter, all. I had wanted to post this picture over Easter weekend, but thanks to temperamental technology I couldn't.

Doesn't he just look adorable in those ears and that tail?

Ms. Betty

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Bittersweet Morning

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Wednesday March 26, 2008 - 11:45am (CDT)

She asked me what time it was, and as I told her I wistfully asked her.." no time to spank the bunny? She was sitting on the edge of the bed in jeans, and a sweatshirt brushing her beautifull red hair.

She smiled softly, and held out her arms. "Come here little bunny well make time." and gave me a final, gentle warming with her hand, and hairbrush. Our time together slipping away.

At the bus I clung to her like a child, my heart breaking. "You have to let me go little bunny." Mistress said her voice breaking. I watched her through the windows of the bus as she made her way to her seat, through a blur of tears. I could only see the outline of her face, and her slender hand waving. The airbrakes released, and the bus pulled away. I watch her out of sight, and now all I can do is cry.

DETAILED BLOGS OF MISTRESS'S VISIT, AND PICTURES WILL BE POSTED HERE, AND ON MISTRESS'S GROUPS VERY SOON.

Terry

SHE'S HERE!!!!!!!!!!

happy boy happy boy happyboy!!!!!!!

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 onTuesday March 18, 2008 - 09:36pm (CDT)

she will be here in less than 8 hrs !!!!!!!...

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Saturday February 16, 2008 - 12:38am (CST)

i am getting soo excited!! i'm sitting now while i can....Daydreaming about dreams coming true. i am like a child at christmas time! So much to do. clean my house. shop for groceries. I want to surprise, and delight mistress with my cooking skills.. i can't wait to serve her, and break bread with her. share my books, and music. ooohh! joy! joy! joy!! i am a very happy boy!!!I AM SO HAPPY!!!!!!!!!!

Keeping Him Busy

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Monday February 11, 2008 - 04:47pm (CST)

This was part of our recent streak of intense play, but it was so much fun I decided it needed an entry of its own.

The other night I called Terry just to chat since yahoo messenger was not behaving. I was feeling playful and began to tease and torment him, making him “tickle” his shaft and balls with the bristles of a hairbrush while we talked.

Unfortunately we were interrupted. Something pressing came up and I had to run out for about 40 minutes. I wasn’t happy about it, we’d just gotten some good momentum going and I didn’t want to lose it. That’s when inspiration struck.

I told him to keep doing exactly what he was doing, keep masturbating with the hairbrush, stay hard, keep thinking of just what I was going to do to him later, but absolutely, positively do not come. For good measure I told him to snap his flexible plastic comb across the head of his shaft 5 times every 5 minutes then go back to “tickling”.

By the time I called him back he was red, sore, swollen, and very, very excited. He had obeyed me perfectly and not come.

What did I do?

I made him put 38 clothespins all over it and began story time.

Ms. Betty

Because I Can

Originally posted on Yahoo 360 on Sunday February 10, 2008 - 06:21pm (CST)

Music throbs out of the speakers. Johnette Napolitano sings soft and low. Then the beat picks up and her voice gets louder as she begins the refrain “Because I wanna! Because I can!”

Listening to Concrete Blonde always makes me want to hurt somebody, in a very good way. (Un?) fortunately for Terry, he’s usually the one nominated these days. “Here, bunny, bunny, bunny” I call in a soft, slinky voice. And like a moth to a flame or a sailor to the call of a siren he cannot resist the pull.

I’ve hurt my little bunny a lot this week. 3 nights in a row I’ve tormented him just for the pleasure of making him wiggle and whimper and cry.

Horrible of me, isn’t it?

Well it would be, if it wasn’t for the fact that being hurt solely for the sake of my pleasure is what he likes best. It’s another one of those odd topsy-turvy quirks that makes life style kinksters so incomprehensible to outsiders. How, why, what is wrong with you people? What twisted type of person likes to hurt, and who is warped enough to take pleasure in causing that pain?

We are. And quite frankly we refuse to be ashamed of it.

For Terry, hurting for me is an offering, a gift, a testament of his dedication to me. The practice of offerings of pain and suffering is as old has human history; initiation rites, religious rituals, purifications, coming of age ceremonies…just about every culture in the world has used pain or deprivation to mark transitions. Life itself begins in a tide of pain and blood. Why wouldn’t it be natural for humans to turn back to those same things to begin new phases of that life?

But what about me? Why make someone suffer if they don’t have to? Simple. Am I to deny someone so dear to me the thing his soul most yearns for? What love or care would it show to deprive him of his deepest need? I hurt him because he needs to hurt, and because I know how to do it safely and carefully to make sure he is not harmed. Second to that there is the alchemy worked in a scene, the strength and determination forged in the heat of the pain. Each lash burns away more of his imperfections, bringing him closer to being the best man he can be.

Yes, I take pleasure in his suffering, but I do so because I know there is pleasure in it for him, too. I feel his joy in the sting of the whip, the delight in boasting of what he’s taken. These are old motives; primal motives that are mostly forgotten in our world of SUVs and instant gratification, but they should not be. The power in learning to survive an ordeal is a timeless lesson. We learn it proudly.

Ms. Betty